Alfred, Commissioner Gordon, and the Most Normal Winchester of All
by Noxbait
Summary: S12. While on a case, the boys wind up having a surprisingly deep conversation about a toad. Pointless, plot-less brother-fluff and humor. Oneshot. Complete.


**Hello! Not sure if you're all aware or not, but chapter alerts aren't going out via email. This has been going on since Thursday or so. If you are someone who's been reading my other story, Face Down in the Desert...chapter 48 and 49 are posted but no alerts went out. Sorry!**

 **So be aware that many stories you may be following may have new chapters for you to read but we have no way to let you know since chapter alerts are down! :)**

 **This very random idea popped into my head last week on my way to work and wouldn't relent until I wrote it out. This is set anywhere in season 12. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey, Dean. Come 'ere."

Dean pushed himself upright from where he'd been crouched down next to the overturned desk, sifting through a messy pile of files. His knees creaked as he straightened and he hoped his brother hadn't heard because he already felt old; he didn't need Sam pointing it out to him. Just because Sam was four years younger didn't mean _his_ knees didn't creak, too.

"You find something?" Dean asked, shining his flashlight around the high school biology lab.

Sam was across the room, peering at the tanks along the back wall. Dean doubted they were going to find any clues about what had killed the biology teacher in the fish tanks, but he joined his brother anyway. There was enough ambient light in the classroom for Dean to see the fat toad sitting in the middle of the tank Sam was staring at.

Raising an eyebrow, Dean said, "He does look a little angry. Maybe he didn't like the accommodations and cooked Mr. Karlin's brain out of spite."

"Don't be stupid."

Considering Sam was the one still staring at a toad, Dean thought the statement was a bit ironic. Instead of pointing it out, though, he merely asked, "Why are we staring at the frog?"

"Toad." Sam didn't look away from the ugly creature.

"Yeah. Whatever. Sam, it's almost three am and we have absolutely nothing on who or what killed the biology teacher. So why are we staring at a _toad_?"

"You know what this reminds me of?"

Dean turned and shined his flashlight into Sam's eyes. "Ah, yes, I see the resemblance."

"Shut up." Sam closed his eyes and batted the flashlight away. "It doesn't remind you of Alfred?"

"Alfred?"

"Alfred. The toad."

Frowning, Dean tried to remember the significance of a toad named Alfred. At first he drew a complete blank, but then he remembered. "You're talking about my toad?"

"Yeah, the toad you didn't tell me about."

And, wow, after almost three decades, Sam _still_ sounded bitter. Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at the toad. It was a toad. They all looked the same. The toad hopped a bit closer and Dean leaned down, studying it more closely. It _did_ sort of look like Alfred. He shook his head. Of all the stupid things to be discussing at three am.

 _Yet, here we are._

"I didn't tell you about Alfred," Dean said since, even after almost three decades, _he_ still was bitter, "because I knew you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut. And guess what happened when I _did_ tell you?"

"I couldn't keep my mouth shut."

"Exactly. And what happened next?"

Sam sighed, taking a step back. "Dad found out."

"Aaand?"

"And Alfred had to move out of the Batcave."

 _At least he sounds sorry about it,_ Dean decided, thoughts wandering back to their childhood. The 'Batcave' had been a shoebox Dean had kept under his side of the twin bed in the tiny two bedroom apartment they'd been living in at the time. At nine, he'd thought he'd been pretty clever about keeping his pet a secret.

Alfred had remained a secret for exactly one and a half days.

Because, at that point in their lives, he'd never kept a secret from his brother and it had just felt wrong. So he'd told Sam about Alfred and they'd spent an afternoon creating an entire ecosystem for their pet in the moldy bathtub. Alfred had gone back into his Batcave just before Dad had walked in the door after work. Sam had been sworn to secrecy, of course.

Dean shook his head at the memory. Dad had no more than opened the jar of peanut butter to make their dinner when Sam had completely slipped up and blurted out that Alfred was hungry. Sam hadn't really perfected lying yet and neither had Dean, so Alfred's cover had been blown.

"You were such a blabbermouth." Dean rolled his eyes.

"I was five," Sam said, as if that was any defense.

"No excuse." Dean walked away. He yawned and decided they might as well return to the motel, get some sleep, then start working the case again tomorrow. It had been a long day. When he didn't hear movement behind him, he paused and looked back. "Sam?"

Sam was still staring at the toad.

Dean groaned and pointed his flashlight back at his brother. "What are you doing?"

"Just thinking." Sam crossed the room, smiling.

"Thinking about what?"

"Alfred. I felt bad about him," Sam said, walking past him back into the hallway. "So did Dad."

Dean caught up with him. "I know. That's why he let me get Commissioner Gordon."

Sam's laugh echoed off the lockers. "I still can't believe you named a goldfish Commissioner Gordon."

"You wanted to name it _Goldie,_ " Dean muttered, pushing the back door open and stepping out into the cool night air.

"At least it made sense."

Dean glared at the back of his brother's head as Sam locked the door behind them. "Commissioner Gordon was much cooler."

"Yeah." Sam straightened and grinned. "It was."

"I loved that stupid fish." Dean smiled as they walked toward the Impala. "He lasted a long time for a goldfish."

Sam nodded as they got into the car. Dean frowned, pulling the door shut. Sam started talking a mile a minute about what he thought their next steps should be regarding the case and Dean knew an avoidance technique when he heard one.

So he sat behind the wheel in the parking lot of a small town high school and waited.

It didn't take long.

"Uh...what're you waiting for?" Sam asked, his monologue finally winding down.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me what you don't want to tell me."

"What are you talking about?"

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me about Commissioner Gordon?"

"Nothing," Sam answered _way_ too quickly.

"Sam."

"Dean, it's late. We probably shouldn't camp in the parking lot all night. We need to get some sleep and-"

"Sammy," Dean interrupted the rambling. "What aren't you telling me?"

A heavy sigh. Sam slumped back in his seat and shook his head. "It's been like thirty years."

"Uh huh." _This is getting more and more interesting._ "We're not going anywhere until you spit it out."

Sam sighed again and studiously avoided his gaze as he mumbled, "He didn't last that long."

"What?"

"Commissioner Gordon. He didn't last as long as you thought."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I had him for almost a year."

"Two weeks."

"What?"

Sam finally looked at him. Briefly. "He lasted two weeks. The first time."

Shaking his head, Dean shifted in his seat. "What do you mean, the _first_ time?"

"Dean," Sam said, somberly. "Commissioner Gordon died two weeks after you got him."

"What?" Dean repeated.

"I think you fed him too much. Or the water was too cold. Or too hot. I don't know. But he was belly up one afternoon. I found him and thought he was sleeping."

Dean laughed in spite of the revelation that his pet had died after only two weeks.

"Dad freaked out and told me the fish was dead." Sam smiled. "So then he had to deal with the fact that the fish was dead, I was bawling, and we were supposed to pick you up from school in an hour."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. We gave the Commissioner a proper burial-"

"In the toilet?"

"In the toilet." Sam nodded. "You'll be happy to know I sent him off with a flowery speech and a thoughtful prayer."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. After the funeral, we went to the pet store and bought Commissioner Gordon 2.0. Ran home, dropped him in the bowl, then picked you up."

Dean couldn't help but smile. "How did you manage to keep your mouth shut about that?"

"I felt bad about getting Alfred evicted for not keeping my mouth shut. When Dad let you

get the fish, you were so happy that I wasn't gonna tell you it had died. Dad and I both thought it was better to just get you a new one."

"Wow. And you kept that secret all these years when you couldn't keep Alfred a secret for two hours." Dean shook his head. He started the car, then his thoughts went back to something Sam had said a moment ago. Staring at his brother, he asked, "What did you mean _the first time?_ "

Sam shrugged. "Uh. Well. Commissioner Gordon 2.0 lasted about a month."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No."

"So there were _three_ Commissioner-"

Sam held his hand up, fingers splayed.

Dean's jaw dropped. "Five? Five fish?"

"Yeah."

"You kept your mouth shut about _five_ fish?"

Sam nodded. "I felt _really_ bad about Alfred."

"I guess so." Dean put the car into drive. "I can't believe you guys didn't tell me. And how did it work out that I never found the Commissioner belly up until the last one?"

"You almost did a couple times." Sam laughed. "Remember when Dad told you he had to take the fish for his rabies shot?"

"No."

"The Commissioner had been looking kind of bad for a day or so," Sam explained. "I can't remember now if this was version 3.0 or 4.0, but you checked on him before breakfast. I went and looked at him while you were brushing your teeth and there he was. Belly up. So I told dad and he hid the bowl in the oven and told you he had to take him for his shots. When you and I walked to school, Dad flushed him, then went and bought another fish before he had to go to work."

"Wow." Dean shook his head as he accelerated down the road. "Just...wow. I really thought it was the same fish."

"Dad and I felt so bad we hadn't found 5.0 before you did."

"I was just impressed he'd lasted so long." Dean smiled. "You two made a pretty sneaky team."

"We got really good at goldfish smuggling."

"Anything else I should know about my childhood that you've been lying to me about for all these years?" Dean grinned.

"Nope," Sam answered again. Way too quickly.

"Sam."

He shifted, resting his left arm along the seat back and narrowed his eyes. "You got anything you want to share with me?"

"Nope," Dean answered just as quickly.

Sam laughed. "Ok."

"I can't believe Dad bought me five fish." Dean stared at the road ahead, thoughts drawn back to another lifetime.

Things had been close to spinning out of control at that point in their lives. Dad had been right on the brink of beginning his hunting career. It had only been a week after Commissioner Gordon 5.0 had died that Dad had packed them up and torn out of town to chase after the first of a never-ending string of leads on what had killed their mom. That apartment had been the last stable home they'd known for a very long time.

"Did you know about the hunting at that point?" Sam asked quietly, following Dean's train of thought with scary accuracy.

 _As usual._

Dean slowed for a turn and glanced at his brother. "No. I mean, yeah. I knew some of it. But Dad didn't tell me everything. Not till after we moved that time."

"No wonder."

"No wonder what?"

"No wonder Commissioner Gordon was so important to Dad," Sam said, tapping a finger on the back of the seat.

"What do you mean?"

Sam took a deep breath. "Dad knew how much you loved that fish. He bought you _five_ of them. He was letting you be a kid for a little longer, Dean. As long as he could."

Dean nodded, taking the last left turn to get them back to the motel. "I did love that fish."

Sam grinned. "You know. We could get a fish tank. If you wanted."

"Uh uh." Dean shook his head. "No fish tank."

"Why not? We've got the space for it and-"

"You're not getting a puppy." Dean was teasing, but he hadn't been a big brother all his life for nothing. He saw the flicker of regret in Sam's eye as he looked away.

"I know," Sam said before Dean could say anything else. "A dog isn't feasible in this life. He'd probably chew up the lore books anyway."

Dean snorted. "You're not wrong."

"But still, a fish? We could get a fish." Sam sat back, arms folded across his chest, obviously giving this a lot of thought. "They've even got automatic feeders and temperature regulators now. If we were gone for a few days or even a week, the fish would be ok."

"You're seriously thinking about this?"

"Sure." Sam looked at him. "Why not?"

 _Why not?_ Dean pursed his lips. Why not? Sam was right. They _could_ get a fish. "Huh."

"Huh?" Sam asked. He sounded amused.

"Huh. We could get a fish."

"Yeah. You want one?"

"Let's not rush into anything, man." Dean held up a hand as he parked the car. "A pet is a big commitment."

Sam was laughing as they got out of the car. "You sound like a dad."

"Well someone has to." Dean grinned and unlocked the door. "Come on. Past your bedtime."

"Shut up." Sam brushed past him and flopped down onto his bed.

"We still gotta figure out who killed the biology teacher." Dean locked the door then pulled his coat off without bothering to turn on the lights.

Sam groaned and rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow close. "Not till tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

"Later tomorrow."

"Yeah." Dean sat down on the edge of his own bed and untied his boots. "Later."

"Alfred was a good toad."

"Still with the toad?" Dean looked up in amusement at his half-asleep brother. "Alfred was a good toad? Yeah, he was. And Jeremiah was a bullfrog."

"He was a good friend of mine."

Dean laughed and lay back against the pillows. "I was never mad at you about Alfred. You know that, right?"

"I know."

Dean rolled over so he was facing his brother. Sam was still on his side, staring at him.

After a minute, Sam said, "I'm glad he kept buying you the fish. I'm glad you got to have that."

Dean smiled, picturing his father frantically shopping for a goldfish for him with Sam in tow. "I'm glad you finally told me about it."

"He tried to be a good dad," Sam said softly. "I know that now. He tried."

"Yeah. He did."

Sam smiled. "This got pretty sentimental considering it began as a discussion about a toad."

"Don't look at me. You started it." Dean laughed and tugged the covers up over himself, not bothering to change clothes. _Screw pajamas._ He yawned and settled more comfortably under the blankets. He was about to drift off when something hit him. Tilting his head, he looked over at his brother and asked, "How did you manage to keep your mouth shut the whole time?"

"Hm?" Sam's eyes were closed.

Dean threw a pillow at him. "Did Dad threaten you or something?"

"What?" Sam pushed the pillow aside without opening his eyes. "Don't be stupid."

"So he didn't threaten you?"

"Of course not."

"Bribed you?"

"Dean. It's the middle of the night. I thought you wanted to sleep."

"Sam. You were five and you couldn't keep a secret to save your life. There is no way you kept that secret for almost a year." Dean inched up on the pillow. "How did Dad keep you from spilling the beans?"

Sam sighed heavily. "If I tell you, can we get some sleep?"

"Yes."

"He bribed me."

"I knew it. What'd he bribe you with?"

"He told me he'd take us to Disney if I never told you about the fish."

Dean cursed.

"It's ok."

"How is it ok?"

"Dean, it was a long time ago." Sam rubbed his eyes.

"He told you he was gonna take you to Disney. He lied to you."

Sam laughed a little. "He lied to _us_ a lot. It wasn't anything special."

"You can't tell a five year old you're gonna take him to Disney and then-"

"See, this is why I never told you. You're overreacting. We just talked about how Dad did his best. Yeah, it was stupid of him to say something like that when he knew he'd never be able to take us." Sam smiled. "But you know what? It's kind of a normal parent thing."

"I guess." Dean stared at the ceiling. "Huh. Who knew Dad was ever normal about anything?"

Sam rolled over and sat up. Untying his boots, he said, "Weird, right? Dad might have been the most normal of any of us."

Narrowing his eyes and wondering how on earth a toad named Alfred had lead to a lengthy conversation like this at almost four in the morning, Dean asked, "You think _Dad's_ the most normal?"

"After everything we've been through in the past few years," Sam said, kicking off his boots, "you think either of _us_ is in the running for the title of _Most Normal Winchester_?"

Dean punched at the lumps in his pillow and said, "I was unaware there was such a title."

Sam continued as if he hadn't heard him, "And Mom's not exactly turning out to be the minivan mom I always thought she was. So yeah, for our screwed up family, Dad probably _is_ the most normal of all of us."

"How did we wind up here?" Dean frowned up at the ceiling. He held up a finger. "And do not give me some existential crap about how we wound up here _metaphorically_. Or even how we wound up here geographically. I'm asking how we wound up talking about this. Weren't we talking about a toad?"

The sound of his brother collapsing back against the mattress was followed by a groan. Dean glanced over and watched Sam bury himself under the covers as he mumbled, "Shhh. No more talking."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're the one who won't shut up."

He waited for the mouthy comeback, but it never came. Sam was already asleep. Smiling to himself, Dean settled against his pillow and closed his eyes.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed! I have no clue where this came from. I seldom spend time thinking about toads or fish lol. I actually HATE toads and fish. But there you go. Alfred the Toad refused to leave me alone until I wrote his story. How five goldfish wound up joining the bandwagon, I'm not sure. :)**


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